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Magic - Blog Posts
Enchantment is pink
Abjuration is blue
Evocation is red/orange
Necromancy is purple/black/green (so you're all kind of right)
Transmutation is green
Divination is opal
Conjuration is is dark blue
Illusion is Light Blue.
Happy now?
Do you guys think wizards argue what color different types of magic are
At this Year of a Dragon i decided to make more arts with dragon from the media who i like most. I started with Master Chem. Actually it is the most interesting character i have found at recent times.
His full name is Chemnashaovirodaintrachivu. He is eccentric and wise wizard dragon from Tara Duncan cartoons and books, where he revealed much more. Master Chem plays important role in the story as leader of group of protagonists and he works as guardian of the portal between Earth and Otherworld, preventing villains to cause havoc on Earth. In the book he becomes more like a father for Tara Duncan. I really like his personality and apperance. There are a newer version of the cartoon. I didn't watched it yet. But i like Master Chem in older version more ^^
Artwork for my universe, featuring skilled draconian mage. New character design i have in mind, now on art. And more practice with backgrounds. I think, it will be one of most imprtant cities in draconian homeworld.
Another sketch of unnamed darcarian archer lady. I like the result and possible should remember this design and color palette for future characters.
Ald at his homeworld. He oppose someone non-friendly from his family and other troubles. He spent a lot of time, learning about his world and it's secrets and thanks to that he can infiltrate unseen everywhere.
Old art that takes a lot of time to finish. Lightning magic allows not only throw lightning bolts, but a much more advanced things.
Finished another art of my anthro form. Will be used for avatar in some places. It is good for storm dragon. It was done very quick, but i like final result.
I finally finished fullheight artwork of my anthro form. Result is very good and accurate to my vision. This art also introduces my weapon. Magical sword with blade made of pure energy, that can cut any material like hot knife through butter.
I unleashed my lightning in action. Any non-friendlies definately will be shocked!
Ashnarey daughter of Ackon Druid of the Moon, brass Dragonborn “All in this world is connected by invisible strings. Sometimes those strings die and rot - that is how all eldritch affect them. My duty is to heal the nature from it and thus preserve the Balance.” Art made for my friend Azura Thunderclaw
Chat I just had the most magical moment of my life.
Allso I think I found a portal
Allso allso, my feet hurt :(
I have decided to return to the woods barefoot in the moonlight.
I love it when magic systems exact a price!!! I love it when magic systems require you to give up something, to be less human, to cause deaths of others or to risk the chance you will go mad or destroy yourself!!!! I love when the epic workings of great and powerful magic come with a horrific cost!!!!
That shit RULES!!!!!!!!
Worldbuilding and Magic Systems: Things to Consider
Have a magic system in mind for your fantasy world? Here's a list of things to consider to help you tie this system into the rest of your worldbuilding, so that it feels more believable and realistic.
Source
What is the source of magic? Is it natural or man-made? Can humans use magic or is it a force of nature that only animals or other races can use?
Does magic originate from inside a person or does it require external items to use? If it comes from items, can the items be made? How long does it take to make the items?
Does the magic cost anything- money, stamina, health, etc.?
Can a person be cut off from being able to use magic? If so, how?
Prevalence
How common is magic in your world? Is it so common that everyone has seen it or is it a subject of myths and rumors?
How long have the people in your world known about magic? Has it always been there or is it a new discovery?
How much does the average person know about magic? How much do experts know? What do people not understand about this magic? Are there any common misconceptions? Myths?
Is magic revered or feared? Or if it's common, is it taken for granted? Are there any taboos surrounding magic?
How many types of magic are there? Are some more common than others?
Are there dedicated schools of thought surrounding the study of magic? Is it taught about in schools? If so, is it taught to children or only at the college (or equivalent) level?
Accessibility
Who can use magic? Who can't? Is it something that only the rich and powerful can use? Why? Or do genetics determine who can use it? Wealth?
Are there any physical limitations that might restrict who can use magic? For instance, maybe old or sickly people can't use magic because it requires a lot of physical effort. Does your society provide accommodations for people who can't use magic? Is a lack of magic ability considered a disability?
Does education level determine capacity for magic?
How easy is it to gain access to magic? How easy is it to learn about magic?
Power/Usefulness
How powerful or useful is magic for different parts of society? Military? Medicine? Entertainment? Art? Childcare? Government? Communication? Business?
How does magic affect the politics of your world? How does it shape the economy? Are there feuds over the use of magic? Do powerful groups in your world have an incentive to limit the use and accessibility of magic? Why?
What happens when people no longer have access to magic? Does this cripple their ability to go through their daily lives? How?
Mix, match, and cross-reference these with other elements of your worldbuilding to form a believable magic system that lives and breaths just as the rest of your world does. For every answer you give to the questions above, consider and build upon the implications of what that might mean for your world. A worldbuilder's best skill is the ability to ask "How will this affect ___?" So make sure you're always considering the ripple effects of each element you add to your world.
Happy worldbuilding y'all!
¿Qué harías si ese mundo de fantasía soñado fuera verdad?
Que pudieras ir a el pero que no todo es color de rosa, llegas en un momento donde todo está en juego. Y solo tu tienes el poder de arreglarlo todo o destruirlo todo, ¿Qué harías?
Para Mercedes, en su pequeña vida rural, acaban de empezar las vacaciones de verano. Las libélulas zumban, las cigarras cantan y el calor matinal escuece las pieles curtidas por el trabajo en el campo, lo cotidiano por la zona. Pero un sueño lo empieza a trastocar todo: Una chica de fuego la llama, y le pide que vaya con ella. Y Mercedes acepta.
。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。
¡Pica aquí para seguir más al día con la historia!
Esta historia procuraré que sea lo más apto para todo publico posible, digamos que podría tener el tono de las novelas de Percy Jackson pero un poco más dramático e igual de queer. (ahre jeje)
Publicaré el primer capítulo, estoy pensando de publicar el resto, pero aquí será para más que nada explicar el avance de la historia y notificar las actualizaciones, ¡intentaré estar lo más activa posible!
La historia está inspirada en las escapadas que hacíamos con mi papá a su casa de campo y como era allí. También bebe muchísimo de la cultura argentina, mezclado con mucha fantasía obvio.
¡Espero que les guste!
¡Muchísimas gracias si leíste hasta aquí!
<3<3<3<3
☆.｡.:･ﾟ☆.｡.:･ﾟ☆.｡.:･ﾟ☆.｡.:･ﾟ☆.｡.:･ﾟ☆.｡.:･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟ☆
every good thing i lose comes back to me tenfold
A Prayer for Hekate
“Oh Hekate, Queen of Witches, Our Dark Mother
Be my guide
Be my light in the dark
Enhance my faith
Open my intuition and lead me into perfection
The Moon, The Light, The Magic
Might they be a part of my craft
I am ready to open my heart, so be it.”
auzeam luna plangand in acea seara. nimeni nu stia daca erau lacrimi de fericire, lacrimi de tristete sau doar lacrimi. simplu. noi stateam si vorbeam despre fiecare stea ce lumina asupra noastra. totul in jur levita avand miros de flori dulci. mii de galaxii se formau in a mea inima, mintea mea incercand sa realizeze ce se petrece. trăiam. trăiam fiecare ciob lipit al acelui glob de cristal temporar, dar atat de minunat incat se simtea ca o eternitate in el. trăiam. trăiesc. voi trăi mereu sub privirea lunii din noaptea aceea.
Fire, Death, Light, Dark. There are many such abilities beholden to the Awakened. Those powerful souls who can command a fundamental force of nature with their will alone. There are thousands of us, an underground society operating even to this day, under the guise of governmental organizations and secret agents. Some of us are hired guns, sought out to bring down oppressive regimes – at least on paper. Many hone their abilities through such work. Others try their hardest to help those who need it. Some of us, though, hunt down our fellows who break the laws of the Covenant, an ancient document made by the First Council of the Awakened, to bind us all and keep us secret. Those hunters are called the Vyadha
I’m one of the latter; day to day, I’m a private investigator in sunny Miami, but once in a while, a next-to-unused fax machine (which is unlisted and even unplugged) will spring to life and print out my next target. A picture, a name, and some basic information will be printed out and I’m to hunt them down, wherever they be, all costs assured. Who finds out what they did, who sends the commands, no one knows. It’s the job of the Vyadha to hunt them down, and to recruit other Awakened to serve as Vyadha; once they take the oath, they are bound to hunt down all who break the laws until they lay dying. Those who fail become the hunted.
It was one boring Tuesday in the middle of November when the fax machine did just what it does, printed out the face of an attractive twenty-something boy. Long, unkempt but clean blonde hair, blue eyes, a well-defined jawline, and dressed in some combination of black and leather. The name and aliases read as follows.
ALEKSANDER KUZNETSOV
“The Bright One, Sunspot, The Light of God”
Twenty-two, Russian origin, currently hiding out in Crimea. You know what to do.
I looked at his face again. I didn’t know him, but then again, I didn’t need to, to know what he was. I looked closely at his face, and I saw it in his eyes. He wasn’t just one of the hired soldiers, he was one of the “Razbudili Rebenka”, the child soldiers that saw use in the latter days of the Soviet Union, whose use continued into the late twentieth century by the disenfranchised pieces of the disbanded country. When their use became a risk to secrecy, they were killed by their handlers, soldiers who were unawakened. Even against the powers of nature, a single bullet can take our lives just as easily.
I’d guess he probably killed his handler. I wonder if he had even met one of his own kind. I wondered if it would have made a difference. Probably not; it was too late for him, regardless.
Getting up from my seat, I picked up my overcoat and put it on, looking in a mirror. An aged face looked back. I’d been at this for a long time. I was born in 1973, a child of a poor German-Jewish immigrant, whose parents had moved here to avoid the Nazis, and a black woman, and for the first fifteen years of my life I was happy enough. Then, they came.
The Erwechter Henker, a sect of Awakened Neonazis who sought to kill all awakened bloodlines from ‘lesser races’. They tracked down my father and struck. An awakened whose powers were to control fire burned our house down, killing my father, asleep in bed, my mother taking me and running outside. The awakened who had burned down the house was waiting outside with a group of unawakened. They took pleasure in beating me and my mother until I lay dying and my mother dead. That was when it happened, my powers awakened, the bloodline coming alive like fire devouring my blood.
My power is a rare one; the ability to affect matter with my mind. I can agitate it, move it, pressurize it, among other things. Within seconds I’d boiled the unawakened’s brains within their skulls, and shattered the bones in the awakened’s arms and legs. Unable to move, and therein unable to use his abilities, I took my pleasure slowly forcing all his blood into his head until it popped like an overripe cherry. I was sixteen years old.
I’m not ashamed of what I did that night; swearing to never let this kind of man do what he did ever again, I buried my family and left that night, to hunt down the rest of the Erwechter. Thanks to my efforts, their sect will never take root in America ever again. That took a decade and a half to do. By the end of it, I had burned every bridge in my life. I had no family; fascists had taken all that from me. It was then that he came to me, a Vyadha calling himself Jack the Reaper. His power, to control darkness, was used to hunt down Nazis across South America, to inspire terror in them before they died. He was near ninety when he came to me.
It was night, and I was drunk, aimlessly wandering around the streets in the dark, when he approached. He was dressed in a suit and overcoat, looking every bit the sophisticate. I looked like a vagrant, mostly because I was. I had no money, no goals – I had done everything I’d sought out to do.
“You are lost,” he spoke, his voice overlaid with a subtle German accent. “You are better than this, herr Abner.”
I looked at him closely, wondering if he was a spy of some sort. “Are you one of them?”
He shook his head at this. “Do not ever mistake me for one of those shizcoff.”
“Then who-“
“I am like you. I am Erwecht, Awakened,” he interrupted me. “I have spent my life hunting down the scum that have robbed us of our families, and I knew your grandfather and father before they came to America. I had heard he had a son.”
I nodded to this, it making sense even in my relatively inebriated state.
“He was a good man. I am sorry to hear what happened to him. I’m sorry that this is the fate that has befallen you; your vengeance was justified, but it should not have cost you the life you could have lived.”
I nodded again, accepting his statement. I’d have been lying if I had not thought the same thing, many times.
“I am here to offer you a chance at a new life; I am Vyadha, of the ancient order of hunters who destroy those who would break our laws. One such as the Erwechter Henker, and many such groups across the world. I have come to offer you the oath to join. It is a lifelong commitment, and should not be taken lightly.”
Here he paused, thinking for a moment. “I do not have much time left, myself. I have spent my years hunting much the same chaff as you, sending them to whatever awaits them. You can continue my work.”
From there, he handed me a piece of paper with a phone number on it, as well as a cell-phone, something somewhat rarer at the time.
I did not call right away. I continued to wander, the thought never leaving my mind.
But, one night, that changed. Two weeks later, I was taking the subway downtown, and came across a scene. Two muggers assaulting a black woman, calling her several slurs along the way. What charming fellows, with Celtic crosses and swastikas tattooed on their necks and the backs of their heads. I shouted at them, and one of them turned to me, drawing a gun. “What do you want, shitskin?” he asked, pointing the gun at my head.
“Leave her alone.” I stated, calmly. It wasn’t the first time a neonazi had pointed a gun at me. Wasn’t even the dozenth, or even the dozenth dozen.
He laughed, drawing back the hammer on the pistol. “Nah, I think I’ll kill you. Then-“ he gestured at the woman, “Me and my friend will do what we want to her.”
“No, I don’t think you will,” I said, this time cracking a smile.
“And why’s that, you n-“ he stopped as I broke his hand with my mind, dragging it down, and causing the gun to discharge into his foot. Screaming in pain, I picked him up by the throat with one hand, and threw him bodily into his friend. I nod with my head, indicating the woman to leave the station, as I did what I always do to Nazis. Leaving behind quite the gory mess, I pulled the phone out, and dialed the number. The voice on the other end was familiar. “Have you made your decision?”
Looking down at the corpses of my attempted murderers, I answered, “Yeah, I think I have.”
Two days later, I met him in central park. “I used my connections to get the investigations against you to stop,” said Jack, holding a lit cigarette. “Two men dead to gang-related activities, I am afraid.”
We both stop to laugh a little. “What do I need to do?”
He tossed me a silver knife and a piece of parchment with writing on it. “Cut your hand and say the words aloud. That is all that need be done.”
Drawing the blade across my hand, I read the paper.
“I swear on the Powers that Be to honor the first covenant, to hunt down the enemies of life itself, and to keep the secrets of the First Council. I swear this on my life, on the lives of my ancestors, and the power passed through blood. On this day, until my last day, I swear.”
I felt something change – like my awakening, but stronger. Pain, yes, but almost in a good way. Like a cleansing. “It is good to meet another Vyadha,” said Jack, “Welcome, brother Abner.”
That all seemed so long ago. Jack took me under his wing for a few years, introducing me to his contacts and other awakened, like us. But in 2006, at the age of 95, he died peacefully in his sleep, and I made sure he was buried with his dead family in Germany.
He left me a tidy sum, secret bank accounts holding liquid assets nearing a half a million dollars. Funds stolen from Nazis he had hunted.
Now, in the present, I boarded the first plane I could get to Ukraine, calling in favors from some of my contacts for information on the target. He was indeed of the Rebenka, and had indeed killed his handler. He was famous for his abilities, to channel light into his body and out through his hands. The effect could be anything from creating fire to blowing apart a building, depending on the strength of the light and his own desires.
I rued the fact that Jack had died so long ago, his ability to extinguish light would have come in handy in this venture. But, there are other ways to handle this.
Arriving in Ukraine, I was met by one of my contacts, an elderly woman who had lived through worse regimes than the modern Russians and had been a friend to Jack. She brought me to her son, a mechanic who had helped me and Jack in the past. War-torn countries are often havens for Awakened seeking to escape world governments. He gave me a vehicle, I took out a fake passport – one that claimed I was a reporter from the states – and set out for Crimea.
Within a day’s drive, I was in Crimea, and trying to figure out where Aleksander was. I hoped he’d been making a scene, but, as I knew was likely, he’d gone underground. It took a week of searching before I even heard of someone matching his description.
He’d fallen in with a gang in Sevastopol, who had protected him in exchange for his services as a ‘peacekeeper’, an enforcer who hunted down rival gangs. I tracked him to a club, called P’yana Svolota, and kept a close eye on the door, before following him into the club, wearing a thick hood and gloves. A black man in Crimea would stand out like a sore thumb. And there he was – dressed in the leather he seemed to like so much, attempting to woo a dancer – and by woo, I mean he was snorting coke out of her bra. He was laughing and chatting up a couple of suspicious-looking gents in suits in Russian. I couldn’t make a scene, killing him here. I’d probably kill him before he could do anything, but I’d most likely get shot for my trouble. I listened to their conversation.
“I want my salary doubled,” he said, sniffling a little.
“You’re already the highest-paid employer in our service,” said one of the men in suits. “We can’t justify paying you more – despite your valued service.”
Laughing, Aleksander brushed his blonde hair away from his face, and began again, “I don’t think you understand, I’m not asking – I’m telling you what I want, and you give it to me, or I drop more bodies than just your enemies.”
“The boss will hear about this,” said the other man, “You can’t just go making threats like this –“
“I can and I will, you mat’ shlyukhoy,”
The two men in suits stood up and walked out, and I watched as he pushed the dancer away roughly and got up, going to the bathroom. I followed.
Inside the dingy, graffiti-laden bathroom, I stood a couple urinals away from him and when he went to wash his hands at the pair of sinks, and I joined him at the other.
“Hey, man,” I said in English.
“What do you want?” he responded in an accent-laden English.
I turned to him and used my powers to throw him into the wall.
“Sukin syn!” he exclaimed, followed by a stream of likewise vulgar slurs.
Aiming a hand towards me, I dodged out of the way as a burst of flame went from his hand to the far wall, nearly taking me out. Using my abilities, I pinned his arms against the wall, and he responded by shooting light out of every bare bit of skin he had – brighter than a flashbang. Losing my concentration, he dropped to the floor, diving towards me while I was blinded. Recovering quickly, I used my abilities to turn off the lights in the room.
Remembering what Jack had taught me about fighting in the dark. Guard on all sides. Use your other senses, he had told me, be prepared for a strike from any side, but if both you and your opponent are on equal footing, make sure to face wherever they are coming from.
I drew from my pocket a switchblade that I had bought on the trip here, knowing telekinesis would be less than useless without my sight to guide it. I heard his footsteps as he ran towards me, and threw myself forward in a tackle.
Unfortunately, I dropped my knife. We grappled on the floor, and I heard sounds from outside, shouting. As I pinned Aleksander, the door slammed open, spilling light into the room. I rolled off of Aleksander as he blasted a beam of light from his bare hands, at what would have been me, but striking the ceiling. Finding the knife, I crouched as he rolled backwards, throwing himself forward into a standing position. Firing blast after blast at me as I dodged as fast as I could, I got closer and closer to him. A blast grazed my arm, melting cloth and burning flesh, painful but survivable.
Finally, I stabbed the knife through his right hand, causing him to scream in pain. Though he was trained in hand-to-hand, he was mostly a ranged opponent and was unused to physical pain in combat. Pulling the knife out quickly as he tried to blast me again, I drove the knife home, slicing through leather and into his right lung. A scream becoming a gurgling gasp as the lung collapsed, I knocked him off his feet, and finished the job, slicing across his throat. I turned and saw the man standing in the doorway, trying to draw his gun, but it was already too late. I threw him out of the doorway with my mind, ran outside and got back into my loaned truck, and drove.
It took me a week, three cars and a couple thousand dollars, but I made it back to the States, and to my house. Taking a beer from the fridge, I relaxed into my chair, and turned on the television. A rerun of Friends was playing. Taking a sip, I closed my eyes and let out a groan. My bandaged arm still hurt like hell. Then, the fax machine in the corner began to beep and print again.
There are many types of Mages in the world. Fire, Ice, Wind, Water, Death, Darkness, to name a few. But in this world, every type of mage is treated as equal. Everyone can be a good guy, no matter how dark your power. And anyone could be a bad guy, no matter how beautiful their ability…
The Last Portrait of the Whitshlir Dynasty
When a new empress ascended to the throne of the Osalti Empire, everyone expected her to end the oppression and wars. And the wars did end, and the empire began to flourish. As if her rule was illuminated by the sun. But every sun sets.
Now it has been 20 years, and everyone watches with fondness the empress's family. On her beautiful daughter. Unaware of how the queen becomes more absorbed in beliefs and predictions. Ah, could the people's faith have been the cause of tragedy?
That day was one of the few sunny days in the capital. It's a pity that the little girl will never see the sun again. Empress, can you wash away the blood of your own child?
Unfortunately, no. She was convinced that her sacrifice would safe the empire, even if it meant her and her family paying the price. But what she did will go down in history as 'The Day the Sky Fell'
It is said that in the gardens of the old palace, you can still see a girl collecting flowers. And in the long gallery, you can hear the quiet song of the woman in the veil:
Sleep, my little girl, sleep
The sun has set time ago,
It's a pity that only the flowers
Could hear my song
I own the text and the rights to it. The image was made in AI and you can safely use it. Also apologise for any mistakes in translation, English is not my native language
And we have XKCD about this 😅
I understand why alchemists invented, and modern fiction writers use, systems with a few understandable Elements like Earth / Fire / Air / Water / Light / Dark.
I understand why even most nerds don't bother to study the Elements in real life. There's too many of them, and they don't neatly correspond to meaningful aspects of macro-level existence.
But just once I'd like to read a worked magical system where the author has looked up the properties of the real Elements, has put in all the work to build up a system of plausible-sounding correspondences, and the protagonist is a rare dual-element Tellurium-Iodine wizard.
The Demon King's daughter
Erebus with his second daughter, Adara:
Adara's parents are harsh on since they both grew up in a hostile environment, especially when Adara became Fiammeta's guardian.
It's true that they love each other and their children. They just act harsh to their children because they grew up with harsh parents, so they think it's the best way to raise their kids.
Amber grew up with a mean and neglectful dad since she was also the guardian of Fiammeta when she was little. (For those who are confused, a guardian loses its power once the new guardian is born. Amber noticed that after Adara's birth, her guardian power started to weaken).
And Erebus parents were bad cause you know demons are portrayed as bad.
Redesign of Adara and her family cause I'm indecisive.
Adara is now half-dragon, half-demon.
Princess Adara and her parents Empress Amber of Planet Fiammeta and King Erebus of Kingdom Demonica of Planet Azreal!
Adara has five siblings, three brothers, and two sisters.
The princes:
Left to right: Crown Prince Blaze, 2nd Prince Ebony, and 3rd Prince Azar.
Adara with her sisters:
Left to right: 1st Princess Seraphina, 2nd Princess Adara, and 3rd Princess Amaya.
The things on their head represents their high status as Royalty